Bottoms Up!
by Amory Sparkly Bat
Summary: Uberbottom!Dean gets a swift *something* to the butt when word gets out that top!Dean has become canon. Can flasher!Castiel and the enormously endowed Sammy teach Dean to top before the whole fandom goes into PWP withdrawl? Very much a STOOPID CRACK FIC, yo.


**Title: **Bottoms Up!

**Author: **Amory Puck (pucktheperv on LJ and Tumblr)**  
**

**Summary:** Uberbottom!Dean gets a swift something to the butt when word gets out that top!Dean has become canon. Can flasher!Castiel and the enormously endowed Sam teach Dean to top before the whole fandom goes into PWP withdrawl? Very much a STOOPID CRACK FIC, yo.

**Author's Notes:** Okay, I was cleaning up my Desktop and found this crack!fic I wrote right after seeing 'Family Remains' on Supernatural back in the day and couldn't resist posting it simply for the image of Sam's dick being so large it could be handcuffed to Dean's wrist... And yes, I know there is something very wrong with me, LOL.

o o o

The pounding on the Impala's windshield was louder than the headboard banging at a love motel. Well, maybe not when Sam was the one thrusting, but that was because his penis had been constructed based on the model of a nuclear warhead, so the headboards had a tendency to go completely *through* the wall. "Dammit, Dean, unlock the car!"

Dean just huddled down deeper in the very bad-for-sleeping-in but very good-for-angsting-in backseat, wrapping his arms around his chest and slamming his head against the upholstery to the beat of 'Disco Inferno.' "Go 'way!"

"Dean, turn off the disco music and unlock the car or I'll unlock it for you! Do you hear me, Deany Poo?!" Uh-oh. That wasn't Sammy. Dammit, his brother had brought in reinforcements. The betrayer.

Castiel let out a deep sigh, glaring over at Sam who just smirked and rolled his eyes at the angel. "Good God, you giant ignoramus, how long has he *been* like this?!"

Sam shrugged, not looking particularly worried. "Not that long. Just since that one episode. 'Phallic Remains' or 'Family Regurgitation or—"

"'Family Remains,'" Castiel cut in, more than a little annoyed.

"Right," Sam agreed. "Anyway, yeah. It's been kinda nice, actually. Real quiet. The obsessive hunting has gotten old *real* damn fast. It's nice to be able to have a quiet Porno Time without the worry of Dean suddenly bursting in, desperate to do a PWP fic involving that giant teddy bear, a dildo shaped like a crucifix, and seventeen rolls of toilet paper." He frowned at Castiel. "How did you find out about this, anyway?"

"The Purple Eyed Demon told me," Castiel said flatly, trying to choke down the urge to mutilate this ogre with his nail file. Sam just didn't care for this sacred butterfly of a Hunter the way a sexually-involved brother should! "I ran into him at a porno. 'Eskimos and She Males: It's Icing in Hell!' Very hot. Purple Eyes hits the matinees sometimes."

Sam nodded in understanding. "Yeah, regular showings are really overpriced these days."

"Yeah." Castiel bent down to gaze in the passenger side window at Dean's crouching figure, scowling when he noted that the man's genitalia was entirely hidden from view. "Where did his clothes go?"

"The fic writers took 'em," Sam said with a shrug. "They've been desperate for some hot Wincestual action for the past few days, but the only thing Dean's been giving away is writer's block. Won't come out of the damn car for anything. Not even to poop." He shook his head. "It's a good thing we're fictional characters or that could become rather… problematic."

Castiel grimaced at the image then leaned down toward the car, knocking hard on the window. "Okay, Dean, I'm coming in! Okay, that sounded mildly sexual… I'm opening the door, Dean… wow, that's not much better…"

Sam rolled his eyes, lip curling up in disgust. "You're really disgusting for an angel, you know that?"

Castiel snorted. "And you would know, considering that your acquaintances are just a cornucopia of angels. If you think *I'm* bad then you should hear the things Michael screams when he's jerking off after angelic choir practice. I swear, only Lucifer's little brother could be sick minded enough to figure out how to masturbate in an ephemeral, insubstantial form." He shrugged. "But hey, I understand. I mean, immortality? Yeah, that gets boring real quick." He grinned nastily up at the Overgrown Oaf. The boy needed to learn to care for the beautiful boy in this car! "Why do you think I wear this thing?" He tugged at the belt of his overcoat. "It makes for *excellent* flashing. Gives you a nice high—little old ladies whimpering at your man-parts. Little girls smiling brightly and asking you why you've got more than they do down there… it's a real party."

Sam looked a little sick. Good.

"I do, by the power of God, command you, oh lock of earthly ways to give yourself to me and by the order of the One True Father whose power I wield under His direction—"

"For God's sake, would you hurry the fuck up?"

"-I do declare that you OPEN!" Castiel tugged at the handle. "Okay, uh, it's still locked. Oh, dammit, I forgot that it's a Chevy. That is some good American craftsmanship there. Oh, fuck it. You have a crowbar, Sam the Oversized Man?"

Dean's head popped up suddenly, his nose pressed against the glass as he bared his teeth at the smirking angel. "You wouldn't fucking *dare*!"

Castiel grinned prettily. "I burn people's eyes out of their sockets for kicks. You bet I'd dare!"

Sam's head jerked. "What the—I thought you said that was an accident!"

The angel blinked then chuckled nervously. "Oh, um, yeah. I meant the 'burning out for fun' thing in a completely, uh, metaphorical sense! Ha!" He grinned a little too widely as Sam glared at him.

"I cannot believe that you—"

Dean cut his brother off, letting out an annoyed sigh. "Oh, Castiel likes to torture people!—it may have been a big surprise when *I* said it but are we really shocked by this? For God's sake, he's an asshole. And he wears lipgloss."

Castiel pouted. "There is nothing wrong with embracing one's femininity. It's just not fair that God won't let me be a chick! That schmuck that Azazel birthed got to be a girl!"

"Not this again," Dean muttered. "You know what, fine! I'll unlock the fucking door-just leave your gender issues in *heaven* Castiel!" He hit the latch and collapsed back down onto the seat, once more covering his genitals, much to Castiel's displeasure.

Sam yanked the car door open and grabbed his brother by the arm, hauling him out of the car with the immeasurable strength granted to him in order to keep his body entirely proportional to the mighty power of his manhood. Dean let out a squeal of protest, batting his hands at his brother's broad, well muscled back as Sam flipped his brother's naked body over his shoulder, smacking his ass just for the hell of it.

"Let me down, Sam! DAMMIT!" Dean slapped frantically, glancing around the WalMart parking lot they'd been squatting in for the past few days. "Let me DOWN! RAPE! RAPE! I'm calling RAPE! Someone save the attractive young male from this man's uninvited molestations!"

Castiel snorted, eyeing the man's naked body predatorily. "For God's sake, Dean, that doesn't even work in fics where you really *are* being raped! What makes you think anybody's going to help you now?"

Dean frowned at him, twisting his head around a little so that he didn't have to look at the angel upside down. "WalMart is a family establishment, Castiel! There should be someone here to help me!" He glanced over at a young, pimply faced boy who was trying to steer a line of shopping carts back toward the entrance. "Hey, you! I'm being raped here! You see my nakedness? RAPE! Help me, dammit!"

"Oh, my God, should I call the—" the boy cut off abruptly as he turned and took in the fact that Sam's arm was longer than he was tall. "Uh, yeah, thank you for shopping at WalMart! Have a nice day!"

Castiel snickered.

Dean pouted his lips at the angel, instantly invoking an erection. Aw, human forms were so much fun!

"I just want to be left alone!" Dean snapped, trying and failing to cross his arms over his chest, that being a difficult thing to do when you're hanging over someone's shoulder. "Dammit, Sam, let me down!"

Sam shrugged and dumped him unceremoniously onto the concrete, smirking as he let out a shriek. "Dang, Sam, ow! Now my ass hurts!"

"Good," Sam said shortly. "We need to get you back to your normal life. You can't stay in the car forever—you've got to start living again, doing the things you like doing! A sore ass is a good first step."

Castiel nodded in agreement. "He's got a good point. I mean, you're always sore down there."

"Why the fuck are *you* even here?" Dean snapped at the angel, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Castiel frowned—he'd enjoyed being able to view Deany Poo's dinky.

Castiel crouched down next to his lovely little fairy, careful not to let his overcoat slip and flash his hard cock—his Deany was already riled up enough! "I ran into Purple Eyes yesterday, Dean. He told me that *you* didn't want to be raped. That's very disconcerting, Dean! That's not something I would expect from you."

Dean pushed his lower lip out as far as possible, glaring up at Castiel. "I don't know what you're talking about! Now go 'way!"

Castiel sighed. "Dean, he said that he came over for your weekly kidnapping and you just threw a copy of 'Martha Stewart Living' at his head then told him that your sexuality had changed and there wasn't anything anybody could do about it because canon sucks. What did you mean by that, Dean?"

Sam frowned deeply and knelt down as well, stretching a little so that all and sundry could catch a glimpse of his well muscled, well tanned, well waxed chest through the baggy shirt he'd left partially unbuttoned just for the fangirls. "Your sexuality?! Dean, what's wrong, man?"

Dean scowled at his brother, shaking his head in disbelief. "Come on, man! You were in the episode, Sam! You saw what went down! Stupid 'Family Remains' with its stupid, over makeup'd freak show humans and all that stupid fucking soul wrenching angst…" Dean made a choking sound and buried his face in his hands, sniffling. "You were *there*, Sammy! I-I, oh God, I'm, like, a sadist, Sam! The screenwriters—they've stripped me of my COLLAR!" He wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. "They… they made me a TOP!"

Sam's mouth dropped. "Oh, wow, man… I didn't even make that connection! Shit! Aw…" Castiel raised a questioning eyebrow at him and he shook his head slowly, looking a little shell shocked. "It was crazy. We had this, like, heartfelt moment, right? And Dean gave in and admitted that, when he was torturing all those people in Hell, he was totally getting off on it."

Dean made a little whimpering noise and there was a long moment of silence. "Wow," Castiel finally said, breaking the uncomfortable quiet. "That is, uh, not something I would have seen coming from, uh, Dean. I mean, that the boy being a *total* masochist is *totally* canonized! Why else would you send yourself off to Hell?! Worse than *that*, why else would you spend more than five minutes in a room with John Winchester?!"

Sam scowled at the angel. "You know he is my DAD."

Castiel snorted. "My point is made."

Dean made a sniffling noise, rubbing at his face. "I-It's horrible! This stupid canon! I love my life! Hardcore bottom boy, that's me! Then along comes these scriptwriters and—and—oh, GOD, Sammy! I don't *want* to paddle anybody!" He stood up abruptly, teetering enough that Sam reached out to steady him, pulling Dean against his very broad chest and wiping at the tears now running freely down his brother's face with his very large thumb.

Sam made reassuring noises, burying his Dean's face against his chest—or, with height differences, really more his stomach area. "Hey it's okay big-but-little brother! You don't have to paddle anybody, I promise!"

Castiel shook his head in disgust. "Those damn screenwriters! They should really learn to keep up with the fanfiction, dammit! Dean is *so* obviously not a top! And even when there's some switching going on there, he's always underneath in the end!" He scowled. "I should talk to God about this. Just ripping someone's obvious sexuality away from them should be a sin!"

Dean whimpered again. "I don't know how I'll be able to do it, Sam! This canon is *absurd*! I don't like to *hurt* people-I like to obsessively follow around people who completely control my life and punish me for my mistakes! Why did I like to torture those people?! I love being flogged by people with arrogant, controlling personalities! It's not fair—how am I *ever* gonna be a top, Sam?"

Sam chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip, stopping after a few minutes when he realized it had started to bleed rather profusely. "Okay," he said seriously, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. "Here's what we're going to do. We are going to go back to the motel—"

"We're not in a motel," Dean said dully. "Remember? We've been living in the car 'cause my sex obsession has turned into a hunt obsession. Damn canon!"

Castiel grimaced. "Seriously, are they mad?! Why would anyone choose hunts over hot gay sex? Damn scriptwriters!"

"Okay, then," Sam said firmly, "we'll check in to a no-tell love motel—of the sleaziest kind, mind you—and *I*, Sasquatch Sam of the Proud Proportional Penis, shall teach you, Bang My Butt Bottom!Dean, how to be a top!"

Dean swallowed hard then nodded slowly, eyes lowered and his shoulders shaking slightly.

Castiel blinked rapidly, surprised to realize that tears were welling up in his eyes. Truly, Bottom!Dean would be a terrible loss for all Mankind. He *really* needed to talk to God about this one. Surely WalMart had payphones. Dammit, he really needed to buy a cell.

Dean took a deep breath and looked upat his brother, his eyes unsure. "Y-you really think that will work?" Sam frowned and Dean quickly added, "Sir! You think that will work, *sir*?"

Castiel winced. Sammy would have his work cut out for him with this one.

o o o

"Okay, Dean," Sam said calmly as his stared down at his brother. Dean was perched on the edge of the mattress with his shoulders hunched and a frightened expression on his face. Sam sighed. Dad had worked for years teaching Dean the Perfect Submission Positions. This was not going to come easy. "Now, you just remember to act a lot like Dad. Dad was a killer top! Nobody ever topped me like DAD did!" He paused frowning. "Though I'll tell you this: Ellen with a strap-on was kinky femdom sex on wheels!"

"Okay," Dean said slowly. He took a deep breath and forced himself to sit up straight. "Okay, act like Dad. Or Ellen. I'll, uh, give it a try."

"Good," Sam said reassuringly. "You just do your best, bro. Just keep repeating to yourself: I take joy in other people's pain!" He nodded rapidly when Dean stared up at him, a look of disbelief on his face. "Yeah, it's really that simple! Can you believe it?! Hell, they have a *word* for it in German! It's just 'schadenfreude,' man! Taking pleasure in the misfortune of other." He smiled down at his brother and settled next to him on the bed, wrapping a massive arm around his brother's lithe frame, totally surrounding the a-whole-lot-smaller man.

"It… just seems so… wrong," Dean said, turning his face away. "Liking it when other people feel bad? Doesn't that make you a bad person, Sam?"

Sam snorted loudly. "Please, that's just bullshit. Everybody does it. *Everybody* likes it when other people are in pain, Dean! I mean, what's funnier than homeless people? Oh, or seeing your high school crush ten years after her boyfriend last put your head in the toilet standing in the welfare line with four children and love handles. Hilarious! That's human nature!" He gave his brother a hug. "You don't think I'm a bad person, do you Dean?"

Dean looked up at his brother, his eyes wide. "No, Sam! Of COURSE not!" A smirk passed across his face, his eyes brightening a little. "You, bad?! Please! You can do things with a tennis racket and a vibrator that defy the laws of physics!"

Sam smiled humbly. "Yes, I must agree, I am quite the talented top. Now, you've just got to remember—when you penetrate someone too quickly and they make whimpering noises-THAT is a turn on!"

Dean frowned a little. "Well, yeah, but only 'cause it hurts."

Sam sighed. "No, no—remember, Dean?! You like it when *other*people hurt, now! You've got to step up and be the *sadist* here, bro!"

"Right…" Dean sighed. "It's just so confusing. Okay, so let me turn on my 'Wide Eyed Sex Me Now' look—"

"No, no! You are the TOP, Dean!" Sam took a deep breath. "Okay, just watch me and try to remember what I'm doing, okay?"

Dean flinched at his brother's gaze. "Oh, man, Sam. I don't know if I'm ready for the 'I Am the Man Here and Don't You Make Me Change My Tone, Boy' look! Can't we start with something easier? I-I think maybe I could do the 'Sit the Fuck Down and Shut the Fuck Up 'Cause You Ain't Worth Shit You Stupid Bitch' look. I pulled it on Ruby once." He scowled. "Hate that bitch."

Sam nodded. "Okay, if you're more comfortable with it, let's go with that one. Then maybe we can move onto something more challenging. Maybe even work up to a 'You are Less than Shit to Me ' or a 'Why Do I Even Bother to Silently Communicate Through Body Language and Eye Speak to Something as Worthless As You?'"

Dean took a deep breath, steadying himself, then stood abruptly. "Okay, let's give it a try!"

Sam grinned and yanked off his shirt.

o o o

"Goddammit, Dean!" Sam shouted, trying to disentangle their legs.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean said frantically, trying to flip himself over and off his brother's back. "I forgot I wasn't supposed to lift my legs up—shit! WATCH IT, BITCH! That's my ARM!"

"How the hell did your arm get handcuffed to my penis?!" Sam shouted.

"How the hell did your penis get so big that handcuffs will work on it?!" Dean snapped back in annoyance. "Stop trying to push your dick in me, *I'm* the top here, remember, asswipe?!"

Sam hissed. "That's not my dick Dean!"

"Then what the hell is going up my butt—oh, it's the bedpost. Shit, whose bright idea was it to turn the damn lights off?!"

"I thought it would make it easier for you to take a dominant power role if you couldn't see that my forearms are bigger than your legs! After all, your silent communication through the language of the eyes wasn't working so well!"

"I was doing fine!"

"Only you could get the 'I Am Going to Fuck Your Worthless Ass Senseless' glare confused with the 'I Wish I Was a Blow Up Doll So You Could Fuck the Air From Me and Blow Me Up Again' look!" Sam snorted. "But I guess it's hard to be dominant when your dick is only ten and a half inches long! You are *definitely* my LITTLE big brother! Napoleon Complex, maybe?"

"Oh shut up, Sam! Not everyone was blessed at birth with a penis so large that their entire body had to adapt to account for its size!"

"OUCH! What just went up MY asshole?!"

"Uh, I think that was my fist. I was trying to punch you."

"Well it certainly wasn't your dick—I wouldn't even *feel* that!"

"Oh, fuck you!"

"Could you guys be louder, please?!" A voice called from outside the door. "God can't hear you very well in Heaven!" The door flung open to reveal Castiel, his overcoat untied, proudly flashing all his equipment to the mortal world. "Why are the lights o—" He cut off abruptly as he flipped the switch, gasping at the twisted mass of human limbs on the bed that was apparently Sam and Dean trying to have sex. "What the fuck happened here?!"

Dean tried to shrug and Sam whimpered as the movement cause the handcuff to tug on his dick.

"We've been having some… difficulties," Dean stated flatly.

Sam nodded, making Dean wince as his brother's teeth scraped against the head of his cock. "The, uh, proportional differences between us combined with lack of experience on Dean's part—" His brother scowled, causing Sam to wiggle as Dean's nose tickled the small of his back. "—has produced some complications."

"Wow," Dean said flatly, "that was very academic, Sam."

Castiel threw up his hands. "You two are pitiful, you know that?"

"Go to Hell," Dean said flatly.

"That's really more your scene, Deany Baby," Castiel said with a smirk.

"Not anymore," he replied as he tried to unravel his left leg from what was left of Sam's jeans. "No more Hellfire fun now." He sniffled a little. "It's gonna be so weird to be able to just sit down without even thinkin' about whether it's gonna hurt like hell or not!"

"Actually," Castiel said casually, "that's what I came to talk to you guys about."

"Oh yeah? Hey, toss me those handcuff keys over there, would ya?" Sam said, carefully tugging at the chain connecting his penis to his brother's wrist.

"Huh? Oh, wow, how did that get cuffed to your cock? Damn, you have a big dick man… Truly blessed are you." Castiel tossed him the keys. "Anyway…" He grinned at Dean who just pouted back at him, making certain parts jump in response. "I went and had a chat with God. I had him flutter about in those screenwriter's minds and shit and guess what? It turns out they weren't really talking about your sexuality at all!"

Dean looked up sharply, making Sam wince as his brother's chin was shoved into his spine. "What?!"

Castiel shrugged and settled himself on the broken A/C unit, playing with himself idly. "They are way too vanilla. I mean, all those millions of sexual connotations in every episode—they don't even do it on purpose!"

"You're kidding me?!" Sam questioned, flipping his brother over so that the bedpost was no longer up his ass. "So there was no, like, hidden BDSM imagery there?"

Castiel tsked. "Nope. It was just supposed to be a heart wrenching moment where we discover that when Dean gets pissed off he runs wild like a fucking bull in a rodeo ring with a rope tied around its balls."

Dean blinked. "They give bulls cockrings?"

Sam shook his head. "No, it's to make them buck."

"Ah," Dean said. He paused. "How did you know that?"

Sam frowned. "I'm not sure. Maybe I lived in Texas is a past life?"

"*Anyway*," Castiel cut in, "the point is, well, we already *knew* that Dean will act like a fucking idiot, running around hitting people in the face and kicking holes in the wall when he gets pissed off! I mean, shit—remember that time you refused to do the golden shower fic with him, Sam? He went *mad*!"

Sam nodded in agreement. "Oh yeah. No offense but you are one bad ass son of a bitch when you don't get the sex you want, Dean."

Dean shrugged. "We live in the Land of Opportunity. I have the right to get the sex that I want!"

Sam frowned. "But what does this have to do with Dean's topping lessons?"

"Well," Castiel said simply, "there's no reason for him to top anymore. This isn't CSI—there's no fetish clubs or dominatrices. Your sexuality is still fanon, Deany Dear."

A broad grin spread across Dean's face as he attempted to jump off the bed and hug the angel, failing when his right thigh, which was still tied to Sam's elbow, caught and he landed face down on the mattress.

Sam yanked the final strap apart and climbed up on the bed, looking hungrily down at his brother's firm ass. "Oh, yeah, baby—this is how I like your bottom!"

Castiel smiled brightly as he settled in to watch. "Thank you GOD," he whispered as Sam the Proportionate Man began to ram into his brother's most private of areas, searchin' for that love-spot.

*Hey,* God replied, amusement in hHs voice, *Bottom!Dean is simply DIVINE!*


End file.
